The sight of His blood of sin it reeks
The broken body crying out with grief
Crushed by His Father indeed was He
The spotless Lamb atonement He brings
Feel the healing as it flows
Down from the cross skin unfolds
A broken body never before seen like this
The cry of the cross God's wrath it stills
A river deep and wide
Crimson it flows from the Savior's side
The full cup of wrath He drank
From the cup of salvation now we drink
Never before has love been displayed like this
A Father exchanged His Son for the enemies of His
Sin stands in the way of His love
Give Me My child in the thunder is heard.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Song: Our God Is Anong Us
(1st vs)Our God is among us/ pour out your heart to Him/ because He hears, He hears/ the ransomed of heaven/ call upon His name/ because He hears, He hears/(chorus) our God is not deaf/ He has not turned away His ear/ He is not slow to answer/ when prayer is according to His will/(2nd vs)You can call upon the Lord/ you can cry out and He will say/ I AM here/ I'm here/ There is no confession/ there is no sin/ that would keep Him from hearing/ hearing His friend/(chorus)/(bridge) who is like the Lord/ He's matchless in power/ there's no other Name/ that's been given all the power/(3rd vs- 2X) who can find the end/ to the immeasurable greatness of His power/ toward us who believe/ o believe!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Searchings for self: Life
Life... Who is it? Where is it? What is it? Can it be reasoned in the depths of philosophy? Can it be found in the passions of theology? Are we left to figure it out on our own? Is there a perfect mold? Can it even be said that someone lived a perfect life? How and when can this be? Is it automatic or pursued? Can life be lived simply or does it have to be lived extravagantly? Who is it that decides what it means to truly live?
Where has my love gone?
Where has my love gone? It has faded from the most beautiful of days and been replaced by the darkest of nights. A tragedy that all creation groans against.
Yet what is this feeling of embrace I have toward this blackness? Why do I desire its cover?
Where has my love gone? Did I leave it on the way or forget it by the river? Can anyone help me find my love?
Yet it is the blackest of storms with the most dreadful display of soul crushing power. I relinquish my embrace for who can survive this disaster being played out through the ages?
Where has my love gone? I will brave the storm even if it cost me my life. The insanity wrapped up inside this emotion to find my love drives me to the brink of destruction.
Yet I will pursue my love until the storm dies and the blackness fades into a crisp morning sunrise. I will find you my love.
Yet what is this feeling of embrace I have toward this blackness? Why do I desire its cover?
Where has my love gone? Did I leave it on the way or forget it by the river? Can anyone help me find my love?
Yet it is the blackest of storms with the most dreadful display of soul crushing power. I relinquish my embrace for who can survive this disaster being played out through the ages?
Where has my love gone? I will brave the storm even if it cost me my life. The insanity wrapped up inside this emotion to find my love drives me to the brink of destruction.
Yet I will pursue my love until the storm dies and the blackness fades into a crisp morning sunrise. I will find you my love.
Precious things
I find myself longing each new day for a love that is driving me insane
This love is one like no other!
For I have never seen or heard of her.
I'm waiting but my heart grows fonder.
Yet with all my strength I can not hold this flower.
And even if I do, what will become of things?
For I am incapable of loving and cherishing precious things.
But Christ has given me a new life.
I can live and run in His light.
Now the capability of loving and cherishing precious things rest not in me but in the King of Kings.
I am complete in Him who has called.
So now I wait to love and cherish precious things.
This love is one like no other!
For I have never seen or heard of her.
I'm waiting but my heart grows fonder.
Yet with all my strength I can not hold this flower.
And even if I do, what will become of things?
For I am incapable of loving and cherishing precious things.
But Christ has given me a new life.
I can live and run in His light.
Now the capability of loving and cherishing precious things rest not in me but in the King of Kings.
I am complete in Him who has called.
So now I wait to love and cherish precious things.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Systematic Theology on the cross? - by: Richard Wurmbrand
"I once tried to explain “systematic theology” to a Russian pastor of the Underground Church, who had never seen a whole New Testament. Systematically, I began to explain to him the teaching about the Godhead, about its unity in three Persons, the teaching about original sin, about the Fall, about salvation, about the Church, about the sacraments, about the Bible as infallible revelation.
He listened attentively. When I had finished, he asked me a most surprising question: “Have those who thought out these theological systems and wrote them down in such perfect order ever carried a cross?” He went on. “A man cannot think systematically even when he has a bad toothache. How can a man who is carrying a cross think systematically? But a Christian has to be more than the bearer of a heavy cross: he shares Christ’s crucifixion. The pains of Christ are his, and the pains of all creation. There is no grief and no suffering in the whole world which should not grieve him also. If a man is crucified with Christ, how can he think systematically? Can there be that kind of thought on a cross?
“Jesus Himself thought unsystematically on the cross. He began with forgiveness; He spoke of a paradise in which even a robber had a place; then He despaired that perhaps there might be no place in paradise even for Him, the Son of God. He felt Himself forsaken. His thirst was so unbearable that He asked for water. Then He surrendered His spirit into His Father’s hand. But there followed no serenity, only a loud cry. Thank you for what you have been trying to teach me. I have the impression that you were only repeating, without much conviction, what others have taught you.”
~Richard Wurmbrand, 1909-2001, founder of VOM, “With God in Solitary Confinement
He listened attentively. When I had finished, he asked me a most surprising question: “Have those who thought out these theological systems and wrote them down in such perfect order ever carried a cross?” He went on. “A man cannot think systematically even when he has a bad toothache. How can a man who is carrying a cross think systematically? But a Christian has to be more than the bearer of a heavy cross: he shares Christ’s crucifixion. The pains of Christ are his, and the pains of all creation. There is no grief and no suffering in the whole world which should not grieve him also. If a man is crucified with Christ, how can he think systematically? Can there be that kind of thought on a cross?
“Jesus Himself thought unsystematically on the cross. He began with forgiveness; He spoke of a paradise in which even a robber had a place; then He despaired that perhaps there might be no place in paradise even for Him, the Son of God. He felt Himself forsaken. His thirst was so unbearable that He asked for water. Then He surrendered His spirit into His Father’s hand. But there followed no serenity, only a loud cry. Thank you for what you have been trying to teach me. I have the impression that you were only repeating, without much conviction, what others have taught you.”
~Richard Wurmbrand, 1909-2001, founder of VOM, “With God in Solitary Confinement
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Cry
Its a poets cry to hear the whisper of the heart with a new melody, desiring to be bound with complete captivity to its relentless oppression; a danger to the one who reads and understands.
The cry longing to be heard in the depths of one possessing a passion for the rare beauty to transform language into a tasteful treat that will be a delight to all who partake; a timeless kiss that will be felt for generations to come.
This brings hope that all will hear the whispered cry that has passed through eternity, bringing the sweetest melody to a complete and tasteful fulfillment; a choice delight that was given before the world began.
But only in full abandonment can this melody sanctify the soul of the hearer to embrace the narrow road of love and grace fully embraced only by those who have fully abandoned all other whispers of lesser value if to only gain a taste of the cry of eternity.
The cry longing to be heard in the depths of one possessing a passion for the rare beauty to transform language into a tasteful treat that will be a delight to all who partake; a timeless kiss that will be felt for generations to come.
This brings hope that all will hear the whispered cry that has passed through eternity, bringing the sweetest melody to a complete and tasteful fulfillment; a choice delight that was given before the world began.
But only in full abandonment can this melody sanctify the soul of the hearer to embrace the narrow road of love and grace fully embraced only by those who have fully abandoned all other whispers of lesser value if to only gain a taste of the cry of eternity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
